


Interpretations of the Text

by worldturtling



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Fingering, First Time, Fluff, Holding Hands, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, MILD pregnancy kink, Mild Kink, Oral Sex, Pregnancy Kink, bottom!Dean, mild sub!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 04:55:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worldturtling/pseuds/worldturtling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is looking for something calm and stable, and Aaron fits the bill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interpretations of the Text

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by the lovely ricketyhands

Aaron asks questions, but not the kind that make Dean uncomfortable, at least not at first.

“Do you want a beer?” Yes. Please.

“Do you want to sit on the porch?” No.

“Are you warm?” A little.

“Can I-?” There is no response to that one. Their mouths are occupied.

“Is this your first time?” he breathes against his cheek, beard brushing against his rough day old stubble.

Dean shakes his head, and Aaron sounds amused.

“So when I was coming onto you… you might have said yes?”

Dean doesn’t know, but he meets Aaron’s eyes all the same. Aaron looks stupid half on top of him, with his tan sweater vest and striped collar peeking out askew, eyes frozen wide with the question that doesn’t exactly ring sexy to Dean’s ears. But he’s also running his warm fingers up and down the sides of Dean’s belly like he knows where he’s most ticklish and avoiding that spot, and he’s close and warm and  _there_ , under his shirt, his mouth clean from mouthwash inches above Dean’s.

The corner of his lips pulls into what he hopes is a confident smirk, “If you were lucky.”

Aaron’s thick eyebrows arch, and his mouth twitches like Dean told a joke.

“So we gonna do this,” Dean starts after a pause, nervous excitement bubbling low in his gut with the thought of how long it’s been.  Aaron is watching Dean like his reactions are of interest, eyes moving and taking him in.

“You’re drooling, dude,”

Aaron snaps his mouth shut and shakes his head, leaning off of Dean and dragging his fingers from under Dean’s shirt with him.

He holds a hand out to Dean, and Dean takes the unneeded help up, following after Aaron down the hall, feeling his cool palm kiss his own.

* * *

 

Aaron’s mouth is on his again, like an arrow with a moving target because Dean is struggling to get his own shirt off. His tongue is fast and quickly familiar, running warm and teasing on his. They’re fighting with the same task, warm fingers bumping into each other on Dean’s buttons, until Aaron moves back with a breath, looking bug eyed and unattractive. Dean remembers the need for air looking at his chest heave. But when he closes his eyes and palms himself, Dean’s dick jumps just a little.

  
“Get your shirt off,” his breath comes out hard but the tone is definite. Maybe needing to be master to a golem did wonders for leadership skills, all the better for Dean.

Dean decides he loves Aaron’s beard, as much as he isn’t a fan of his own.  As soon as his shirt, and the shirt underneath it, are off, Aaron is pressed against him, saying ‘fuck’s and ‘yeah’s against his throat and rutting against his crotch through their jeans. Dean thrusts his hips up hard, and Aaron grabs the hands on his waist and with some fumbling, their fingers entwine, pressed against the wall behind Dean. Dean tilts his head, presses his mouth to Aaron’s ear and Aaron heeds him, moves up to meet his mouth for a bumpy rough kiss.

He untwines their hands and reaches for Aaron’s jeans, dropping to his knees when they’re unbuttoned. A noise like a whoosh sounds above him and he looks up. Aaron is slack jawed, but his hand comes up, brushes down the back of Dean’s head and then up. That’s all the encouragement he needs.

He shoves Aaron’s pants down to his ankles, and his black boxer briefs are face to face with Dean. Aaron’s fingers are brushing through his hair, and Dean senses the musky scent mixed with whatever soap he used. He hooks his fingers into the band and pulls down, the head of Aaron’s cock bouncing from the quick movement and bumping Dean’s nose. Aaron giggles low in his throat and Dean takes a second to react.

“You look good,” Aaron says reassuringly, that Dean can’t bring it in him to glare, although his face heats up for a second. How to be unsexy 101.

Aaron’s palm cups the back of Dean’s head and nudges him forward suggestively, which Dean follows.

Dean knows how to give good head, bad lead up aside. He knows how to get his lips spit slicked and has a good success rate of fighting a gag reflex he hated discovering he had. Aaron tastes interesting, familiar and unique on his own. It’s been a while since Dean has blown a guy, women had their own scents and tastes too. He was good at this, but more importantly, Aaron’s fingers were tightening their grip in his hair. Aaron releases tight constrained gasps, thrusting lightly, not enough to jar Dean’s own control. He didn’t usually let a guy fuck his mouth on a first date. There were special cases though, and he might have made an exception for Aaron, but Aaron himself didn’t seem comfortable trespassing that line yet.

Dean rolls his eyes up, Aaron’s cock stiffening in his mouth, and Aaron looks down at him through half lids, every breath colored with a moan, until he starts shaking his head.

“Stop,” his fingers tug Dean back by the hair, something that thrills Dean, and as the cock slid out of his mouth so did a moan. He looks up at Aaron, still on his knees, Aaron with a short fist in his hair, and an “oh” escapes under his breath when Dean closes his eyes to the fingers pulling his head back by the hair some more.

Aaron audibly swallows.

“Bed.”

They’re both on the same page, Dean scrambling up, Aaron kicking himself out of his pants and boxers while his hands try to awkwardly help Dean up.

Somehow Dean is the first one on the bed, bouncing and scurrying up to get in the middle, Aaron follows and Dean makes space for him between his knees. He grabs Aaron’s stupid vest and pulls it over his head, and he rips at the button up while Aaron falls on his mouth, hands finding purchase and sinking into the flesh of his hips. This time his mouth is soft instead of quick and dirty, like he’s trying to open Dean up. Dean tilts his head up and Aaron follows, kissing down his neck, teeth and beard scraping, thumb brushing over his nipples and – oh. Dean hasn’t felt this taken apart in a long time.

He removes Dean’s shoes and throws them aside. He attacks Dean’s jeans, and Dean complies and lifts his hips to get them off.  He mouths over Dean’s erection through his own boxers, fingers gently caressing where his balls are, and Dean makes a needy sound, gripping the sheets.

Aaron is grinning up from him, past his belly, and Dean makes a frustrated noise, shoving his hips up into his face.

“You’re really beautiful, and really out of my league, you know.”

Dean rolls his eyes and tries not to blush. He doesn’t know what to do with compliments like that, and likes to deny the burning feeling in his stomach when he gets them.

Aaron slides Dean’s boxers off next, throwing them to the side as well. Then he stands up, leaving Dean naked on his bedspread, so he can look through his night stand drawer. Dean feels cold and rubs his cock lightly for comfort.

“I’ve got honey lube and strawberry, you got a preference?” Dean shakes his head.

“No.”

Aaron throws a bottle and a condom on the other side of Dean and starts to knee back on the bed. Dean rolls over first, both to his surprise and apparently Aaron’s who freezes on the bed behind him.

“Uh…I guess that answers the next question I was going to ask.”

Dean flushes but Aaron’s hand rests warm on his lower back, fingers trailing down lightly, tickling and ghosting over his hole. Dean clenches, wishing he’d practiced fingering himself before this.

“I’m clean.” He promises gruffly. Aaron’s fingers pause, before cupping his left cheek and squeezing.

“Relax, Dean. I have a little more familiarity with this than hunting.” His thumb grazes over and brushes his entrance again. Dean breathes and tries not to tense up. “I won’t hurt you.” He pushes the tip of his thumb in shallowly, and Dean accepts it there. “Just tell me if it’s okay.”  Dean breathes in and counts to ten, and Aaron strokes him down his flank with his other hand, brushing up over his hips slowly, and down again.

“I’m okay,” Dean breathes out. Aaron withdraws his thumb, pats Dean’s thigh twice and pops the lube open.

It’s cold when the first finger pushes in, and Dean jumps, but Aaron keeps the other hand on his thigh patting down. He nudges his right thigh and positions Dean into a more spread position. Aaron adds more lube before he adds a second finger, and Dean hears the squelch and flushes from the sound. Aaron’s fingers are brushing around more than moving in and out, curling and flexing in a way that’s pleasurable and comfortable in itself. He reaches down to grab himself and squeezes. Yeah, it’s a nice feeling to clench around.

“I’m ready,” he says, wanting to speed the show up.

“You’re not, stay still.” Aaron says distractedly, his other hand softly gripping the front of Dean’s thigh now for balance. His fingers are wet and noisy as they twist inside Dean, and Dean shuts his eyes and buries his face into the pillow away from the sound, but he stays still.

Until he jumps and chokes because Aaron found what he was looking for, and rubs Dean inside repeatedly until Dean is panting open mouthed into Aaron’s pillow and gripping his sheets and shoving back and away all at once.

Aaron adds a third after that, Dean fucking himself because the stretch and burn is good, and he bears down on all three and asks for more. A whine from the back of his throat signals that he is truly gone, waiting. The rip of the condom foil is heard, and Dean hears the rubbery latex as Aaron handles it.

Aaron’s fingers are wet when they land on his hips. His cock head is at his entrance, and the other hand is digging his right cheek to the side.

“God, you’re fucking amazing,” Dean hears him say. He tries to push back onto it, but Aaron uses his leverage to keep Dean away.

“Gonna go slow, tell me if you want me to stop.”

Dean bends his head into his forearms, and waits.

Aaron nudges forward, spreading Dean’s rim open and teasing the head of his cock in little by little. The wet noises from the lube are still happening during this, but Dean can’t even pay it mind anymore. Aaron feeds him his cock little by little, thrusting in shallowly after the head pops in. It feels like forever until the full stretch home, and Dean can feel Aaron’s balls against the curve of his ass.  Aaron presses over him, one hand like an iron grip on his hip, the other moves and presses down on where his neck meets his shoulder. Dean goes down, feels the exaggerated arch of his back when Aaron slowly pulls out, and thrusts back in. The angle is good, feels like Aaron intends to fuck Dean into the mattress, and Dean is on board with that.

Aaron starts a jackhammer pace, not pulling out all the way, but thrusting in a hard rhythmic speed that jerks Dean bodily. His fingers on the meat of Dean’s shoulder move up to his nape, thumb brushing up against his air. Dean sobs and tries to squeeze his hand under him.

But not before Aaron flips him over. He pulls out roughly, quickly, tugs Dean over easily, grips and throws a leg over his shoulder and shoves back in. This happens in a few seconds and Dean is thrown off balance before Dean can even realize it. Aaron is spreading him open in a new way, closing his eyes and rocking his hips into Dean. Dean’s other leg curls around Aaron’s. He holds his hand open and up, Aaron entwines them, buries himself deep into Dean before folding down into a dirty openmouthed kiss while he presses Dean’s hand into the coverlet. He lets Dean’s leg go in the process, and now Dean feels like a girl with his legs pressed against Aaron’s ass, urging him inside. The ball slapping is audible and they’re getting sweaty, but Aaron’s mouth is hot and biblical. His tongue runs up Dean’s palate roughly before pulling back.

“They say not to waste seed unless to procreate,” Aaron says in a deep voice when he draws back, his hand finally, finally, touching the base of Dean’s cock.

His thrusts are paced, measured, and hard. He tugs Dean’s, rubbing down the foreskin, squeezing the base.

“And that a Jewish man should only spill seed into his wife,” he’s grinning, hand speeding faster on Dean’s cock. Dean feels where he’s being split open, wet and stretched. He’s bearing down on it, heels digging into Aaron’s nice ass although Aaron isn’t changing his pace.

“A good Jewish man lays into his wife at least five times a week.”

Dean is shaking his head but Aaron’s hand squeezes his, and his other is pulling on him hard and fast, and nudging his thick base in with steady pushes. Dean opens his eyes, and Aaron is watching him heatedly, with lust and something else underneath.

“Dean.”

He comes with a yell, bearing down and wanting to feel Aaron further. Aaron capitalizes on this moment, thrusts fast and thorough while holding and squeezing Dean’s cock through it, and squeezing Dean’s hand where he’s balancing himself over him.

It only takes a few thrusts through Dean’s clenching and Aaron is coming too, resting his forehead on Dean’s shoulder and mouthing something onto his skin through his pants.

Dean finally lets a deep breath out. Aaron joins him, laughs in a semi-hysterical breath.

“You’re fucking amazing,” he brushes his mouth against the side of Dean’s neck, before unsticking their fingers from each other and swaying to the side, rolling off the bed. Dean whines at the retreat and feels no shame for it.

Aaron returns quickly with a towel though, and rubs the come off of Dean’s stomach gently. He folds the cloth over when he’s done and throws it in a hamper nearby. He climbs back into bed, and Dean reaches for him, but is stopped by a hand already on his head guiding him in a direction, until he’s lying flat on his back, with Aaron’s chest pillowing his head. Dean holds a hand up without thinking, and Aaron takes it in his own, Dean holding Aaron’s hand over his shoulder. Aaron’s other hand return to his hair and starts scratching.

“You’re the amazing one,” Dean says, closing his eyes at the warmth spreading through him.

“Golem totally doesn’t know about this, by the way.”

“Neither does my brother.”

“Does he …”

“No. I mean, not that I’m ashamed, just…” Dean takes a deep breath, blows it out, “We’re brothers and we’re hunters. But some things are just personal, you know? Separate. Does your golem?”

“Yeah, where do you think I got all that stuff about spilling seed?” Dean blushes. “He kind of puts up with it like my mom did with my grandma’s conspiracy rants.” Dean huffs a laugh and Aaron joins in a weird happy post-coital haze.

“You have a lot of one night stands?” Dean asks, breaking a comfortable lapse into silence.

“Well, I wasn’t lying when all I said I had was my charm. But no, relationships are more my thing.”

“Oh.”

“Although I’ve had a dry spell for a while. One night stands are definitely welcome you know.” He squeezes Dean’s hand again and Dean can’t help but to smile.

“It gets harder - the one night stand thing,” Dean mumbles. Aaron’s hand pauses on Dean’s head.

“You know, I really wouldn’t say no to a repeat occurrence.”

“But not…”

“Believe me, I’m not looking for the baggage of a relationship right now either.”

Dean barks a laugh.

“Trust me, right now I’ve just got too much relationship baggage.” Dean brings Aaron’s hand town, turns his head, and kisses his knuckles thoughtfully.

“Just don’t tell Sam.”

* * *

 

**[BONUS]**

Next thing Dean knows, it’s the following week. Sam is poured over his books late at night, and Dean is sneaking Aaron in through the only entrance he’s located so far.

“Dean?” Sam calls, probably having heard the big door grate open. 

“Just thought I hear a dog, Sammy. Don’t want them pissing over my tires and all,” he yells, and Aaron is giving him an amused look that Dean glares at, before ushering him down the hall and into his room.

Later, much later, there’s a knock on the steel door.

 Dean is lying naked again, this time on his side, with Aaron spooning behind him and playing with his soft exhausted cock.

Dean sobers up, yells: 

“What?”

“I thought I heard a noise.”

“What, you mean me?”

He hears Sam huff.

“No, like,  _voices_. Talking.”

“Maybe you mean my awesome music.”

It was true, Dean had shown Aaron his Zeppelin collection, but most of that was while Aaron had been fucking his mouth and pulling his hair and groaning his name. All good sounds, just maybe not all excused by Zeppelin alone.

Dean hears the door knob click.

“Dean, your door is locked.”

“My room my rules Sammy. Now shut up, I’m trying to get my four hours.”

“Dean.”

“Do I need a keep out sign?”

“You’re the child here!” Sam yells back, sounding exasperated.  “Why aren’t you letting me in, Dean?”

“Fine Sam, you caught me, I’m ass naked and screwing someone. You want the peep show?”

Sam is quiet on the other side. Dean can just picture his bitch face warring with deciding what’s true or not.

“Make the coffee stronger tomorrow. I’m going to bed.” 

“What am I, your maid?”

“Yes.” Sam deadpans from the other side and Dean hears him walking away.

“Make your own damn coffee then,” Dean yells after him, and notices Aaron is trying to hold back a fit of giggles into his neck.


End file.
